


Ultimatum

by CasusFere



Series: Flash Fiction [14]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Trope Subversion, attempted sexual humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasusFere/pseuds/CasusFere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While attempting to rescue a group of civilian refugees, Springer and Sandstorm are caught by a sadistic Decepticon. Subverting the old "screw or die" trope. Dark humor rather than darkfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ultimatum

  
_”Keep calm,”_ Springer said over a tight, encrypted band, even as he raised his hands. _”Rescue’s already on the way.”_ He exchanged looks with Sandstorm over the heads of the others, mostly civilian refugees. _Frag_ it, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be saving these people, not leading them into a trap!

He didn’t let his apprehension show on his face, offering the Decepticon in the lead a bright smile. “Nice day, ain’t it?”

The Decepticon, a big wheeled mech he didn’t recognize, smirked back. They had Springer’s group outnumbered, even before he factored in the fact that most of his were unarmed civilians. He and Sandstorm were the only ones packing more than a light pistol.

“Well, looky here,” the Decepticon said, gloating. “Wasn’t I just sayin’ that this planet needed some entertainment?” He stepped forward to loom over Springer. “My mechs have been gettin’ kinda, well, _lonely_ out here. It’s awful nice of you to stop in to entertain them.”

 _Frag and double frag._ Springer didn’t like where this was going at all. He kept the smile on his face. “Really? Well, I’ve been told I do a mean sock puppet routine-”

“Smartmouth. I like that,” the big Decepticon growled. “I’m gonna really enjoy watchin’ you get ‘faced into the dirt.” His smirk widened. “I’m feelin’ generous. You pick which of your little friends you want to screw for our entertainment, and if you put on a good enough show, my boys here might not have to find their own ‘entertainment’ with the little civilians.”

Springer felt the fuel in his lines go cold, dark anger flaring inside him. _Fraggers._ They wanted to offer him the option of raping one of his people personally, or watching them do it to the rest. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

His voice is deceptively light when he calls out. “Hey, Sandstorm! Wanna ‘face me into the dirt?”

He feels a flare of vindictive pleasure at the surprised expression on the Decepticon’s face when Sandstorm responded with a cheerful “Sure!”

Catcalls, whistles, and laughter broke out from the Decepticon troops as Sandstorm shoved him down. He wrapped his legs around Sandstorm’s, gasping as those talented fingers went straight for a sensitive spot.

 _”You good?”_ Sandstorm asked, sounding worried over the tight band, even as his mouth found Springer’s neck and one of the Decepticons whooped.

 _”I’m good,”_ Springer answered. _”Just gotta keep ‘em distracted for a little while.”_ He smirked faintly, despite the direness of the situation. _”You got enough tricks for that?”_

 _”Dunno,”_ Sandstorm said cockily, as his fingers found _that_ seam and he dug in, Springer arching up against him with a gasp. _”They look distracted?_

Springer forced his optics back online to check their audience, to find the Decepticon’s collective attention focused on them, much to the enemy leader’s apparent disgust.

 _”Oh yes,”_ Springer said, then cried out as Sandstorm dug his fingers in deeper and did _something_ that made his sensors light up like a plasma blast. He was only vaguely aware of the appreciative noises from the Decepticons watching as he scrabbled for a better grip on Sandstorm’s back. “Okay, _that_ you can do again,” he rasped out loud when he could speak again.

 _”Just keepin’ it real,”_ Sandstorm said, and Springer could feel the smirk against his neck.

The loose ring of Decepticons tightened as Sandstorm seemed to find every spot that could wring a noise out of Springer, stroking, twisting, plunging under seams and _twisting._ So engrossed were they that the first realization they had that the Autobot’s backup had found them was the warning volley sent over their heads. Surrounded and outnumbered as much as they had just outnumbered Springer’s team, they dropped weapons and surrendered.

Springer propped himself up on his elbows, legs still tangled with Sandstorm’s, and grinned at Ultra Magnus.

“Not exactly what I’d call a textbook distraction,” Ultra Magnus said dryly.

“But it worked,” Springer answered cheerfully.

“Doesn’t that just sound like a cause for celebration?” Sandstorm asked, matching Springer’s grin.

“Good point.” Springer reached up to grab Sandstorm by his tail rotor and pull him back down.

Ultra Magnus shook his head, expression torn between amusement and disgust. _”Wreckers.”_


End file.
